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?It’s a metaphor.?She finished the water.

?Oh.?He was staring at her.

?Wanna come??

He shook his head. She smiled, put the glass back in its holder, and turned to exit the communications room. Aaron followed her with his eyes.

?Fuck me,?he murmured to no one in particular. 188 XIV

The access corridor was empty. Pausing, she jammed the torch she’d been carrying into a seam in the wall, studying the line of aged, rusting pipes nearby. Grabbing the nearest, she braced herself and yanked hard. The metal snapped and bent toward her. A second yank broke it free. Satisfied, she continued on.

The infirmary seemed more deserted than ever. She paused for a look around, half expecting to see Clemens bent over his workstation, glancing up to grin in her direction. The computer was dark and silent, the chair empty.

It was hard to pull herself up into the overhead air duct while manipulating both the five-foot length of pipe and the flashlight, but she managed. The duct was dark and empty. Adjusting the battered flashlight for wide beam, she flashed it behind her before starting off in the opposite direction.

Exactly how long or how far she crawled before she started calling, she didn’t know; only that the faint light from

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the infirmary had long since faded behind her. Her shouts were muted at first, then louder as fear gave way to anger. Her fate was inevitable. She just had to know. She had to see that thing face-to-face.

?Come on! I know you’re here!?She advanced on hands and knees. ?Come on. Just do what you do.?

The air vent bent sharply to the left. She kept moving, alternately muttering and shouting. ?Come on, you shithead. Where are you when I need you??

Her knees were getting raw when she finally paused, listening intently. A noise? Or her own imagination, working overtime?

?Shit.?She resumed her awkward, uncomfortable advance, turning another corner.

It opened into an alcove large enough to allow her to stand. Gratefully she climbed to her feet, stretching. The alcove was home to a decrepit, rusting water purification unit consisting of a thousand-gallon tank and a maze of neglected pipes.

Behind the tank the ventilation duct stretched off before her, an endless, difficult-to-negotiate tube of darkness. As she stared a fresh wave of nausea overcame her and she leaned against the tank for support.

As she did so an alien tail flicked out and knocked the flashlight from her fingers.

It landed on the concrete floor, spinning but staying lit. Ripley whirled, a feeling of desperation creeping up her spine.

The alien peered out at her from within the network of pipes and conduits where it had been resting. It regarded her.